“So sorry I’m late!”

We did late dockets in our secondary school. There are variations elsewhere, I know – late slips (why dockets in ours, I’m not sure, unless it was along the lines of the ‘shifts’ in Synge’s Playboy of the Western World and they feared revolt amongst the demure young ladies of the school), black marks, late marks, points, minus points, demerits, order marks for your form (though I think that one might have only existed in the land of Enid Blyton). The trick was to be let off the hook by the receptionist, pleading some kind of crisis – or to sneak past if she was away from the front desk for a moment.

Of course, despite the late docket – the proof that you’d already been chastised, reprimanded, and had clocked up one more mark against yourself – some of the teachers would still frown and demand an explanation. Parents were often blamed, especially in those pre-Junior Cert years when they could be held responsible for so many things, before the Leaving Cert era of ‘it’s your future – it’s up to you’. Others, conscious of limited time in the classroom, skipped over such things and moved on with the class. If you accumulated enough of these dockets, you received the particularly apt punishment of early morning detention – an hour before school began on Friday morning.

It was understood that being late was something to be avoided, but as the years crept by it mattered less. A couple of the girls in the school had their own cars, and could talk about traffic and/or car trouble in terribly grown-up terms as they stood in their crest-adorned jumper and pleated skirt explaining why they were late. It started seeming like something ridiculous, to be given out for being late. As the exams drew closer it became more common to arrive after a first class had ended, if it wasn’t a favourite. For the exams themselves, of course, we were on time, there was no question about that – and if parents had been lax or treating their offspring like responsible human beings during the year, they were taking no chances with the almighty Leaving Cert.

In college, that great world of freedom beyond the walls of uptight schools, it was possible to skip classes entirely (depending on one’s course and institution, of course), and certainly it was inevitable that the first seven minutes of any lecture would be punctuated with shuffling latecomers finding a space – sometimes including the lecturer themselves. If you were meeting someone for coffee, the text message to let you know they’d been delayed was a not-uncommon experience. And then out in the alleged real world it was more of the same – I’ve never been to a talk that’s started at its designated time, never known a concert or stand-up comedy routine to begin anywhere close to the ‘show’ time on a ticket. Theatres are usually a little bit better – I was at the Gate recently and there were apologies to the audience for being kept waiting three minutes. People looked at their watches in bewilderment.

It is, of course, considered something of a social faux-pas to arrive at someone’s house within half an hour of the given time, unless food is being served. And if you’re meeting people for pints, unless it’s within ten minutes of their workplace and their designated workday, you’d be a fool to turn up on time. I’ve done more than my fair share of sitting at the bar, looking intently at my phone, trying to exude an air of aloofness rather than desperation, wondering why seven o’clock really means half-past eight and whether this should be something taught in schools when they’re teaching you how to read the time.

At work meetings and other engagements one is generally expected to arrive on time, but not early, and in fact it’s often proof of one’s busyness and importance if you’re late – so many people to see, so many things to sort out, so little time! I remember adults always seeming very busy, very busy indeed, when I was growing up, but I wonder whether it’s worse now – with the various things to occupy us (we need to keep up with our email, with our phone, with what the Internet is saying, now now now now) and various ways of letting people know that we will be delayed.

At twenty-five I see myself slipping into it more and more – the feeling that actually it isn’t worth apologising for being five minutes late, because no one else does. How terribly childish and schoolgirlish – no one’s going to hand out a late docket, we’re so beyond that. Turning up on time doesn’t mark you as an organised person – it’s an indicator of how little else you must have to do, what a leisurely life you must lead. Aren’t we all too busy to remember that there’s always traffic this time of day, or that we meant to get back to someone? Deadlines? Prioritise, bargain your way to extensions, plead whatever you need to – it’s just what has to be done. Who bothers praising punctuality? That’s one of the things in a reference that means they don’t have anything else to say, isn’t it?

But I do wonder – if we all had some equivalent to that early-morning detention, that needing to reorganise our schedule, no excuses, so that we absolutely simply had to be somewhere well before a time that had consistently proved such a hardship – what would happen.

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19 Responses

I really like this post, so well written. It’s a topic I’m really interested in. I’ve tried to improve my timekeeping as I’ve gotten a bit older…it’s been difficult. I only have a mild problem and it usually involves a wardrobe malfunction of some kind. Life these days is hectic and agreed start times for meetings, events and so on have really become ‘ballpark’. Is it an Irish thing? Increasingly I believe it is. People do try and pack up their week with classes, drinks, meetings, little units of time scheduled in different parts of town…we’ll unrealistically aim to be there on time but then…life gets in the way! I’ve always felt a pang of embarrassment when I’m late for something. It boils down to the perceived importance of the scheduled event and the person being met…if one expects a telling-off for being tardy you are less likely to run late again.

Think you’re onto something with the ‘ballpark’ – it does become a situation where people genuinely feel they don’t need to turn up on time because no one else will. And there is certainly a sense of unrealism about how long it takes to do things or travel somewhere on the parts of many!

Yes, I think mobiles have had a huge effect on our lateness. I was in college in the pre-mobile era, and people just didn’t turn up an hour late – or if they did, they’d find no one there, because you’d give up after a certain point and go off in a justifiable huff. I was a terrible time-keeper by the standards of the era, but even I wouldn’t turn up to meet someone, say, at the arts block ramp 20 minutes late. When you knew there was no way of contacting someone if you missed them, you just made more of an effort to be vaguely on time.

I’ll be the grouchy old fart and say I loathe it when people are late, especially when I have invited them to dinner. Some people plan and count on others’ punctuality. So I suspect this might be cultural; I live in NY.

I make it a habit to be on time, sometimes, if possible, even arriving early so I have time to settle in, catch my breath, have pee or drink of water. This whole “inability” to be on time smacks of terrible self-importance. I hate being late as it tells the other person that my time (true? why?) is more valuable than theirs.

Dinners are I think one of the things people tend to be better at turning up to – I think because it does seem more time-sensitive than ‘just going for a drink’ or whatever it might be, and one of those situations where it’s more socially acceptable for someone to be annoyed about lateness, perhaps?

Love this article! At boarding school, we had conduct marks. I hate being late, used to happen all the time. Seems I am only capable of being 15 minutes early or 15 minutes late, so strange as my soon to be husband manages to be bang on time to everything. In fact, we can leave, in two separate cars to the same destination, at the same time and I am always either 15 minutes early or 15 minutes late! I do strive to be early as I feel I am insulting the person I am meeting if I am late, as if to say that my time is more important than theirs. Anyway, lovely piece!

I’m an oddity in Ireland, always on time. Grew up with the stress of parents who were late for EVERYTHING, and the panic that would ensue to get the whole family at the door and then speed on our way was horrible and must have left a mark on me.

Recently I was meeting a group of friends for dinner in a restaurant, I arrived at five minutes to the hour and then sat at a large table by myself until the first person trickled in at 25 minutes past the hour. The rest arrived between gaps of 5 and 10 minutes – all flurries of “so so busy, work mad” but never once an “i’m sorry everyone”. No text messages, no ‘i’m running late’ phone calls – nothing.

At the end of the meal the “we must do this again, when?” debate began. I mentioned that everyone had been late, so maybe midweek was a bad idea.

Cue silence.

Then the defense began “work, blah, blah, traffic”

Then the attack began “well, you were late too (???)”, “nobody is on time for restaurant reservations any more” and the final punch of “it’s fine for you to be on time, you’re not as busy as us” (??!?). This isn’t some sort of a mean girls scenario where I should be considering getting some new friends – this behaviour is apparently considered generally acceptable.

I’ve had enough. 10 minutes late and no message? I’m leaving. 30 minutes late and a bullshit reason texted to me? When you get there i’ll be gone.

Oh, that’s awful! But yeah, there does seem to be a sense that it really is okay to be late and leave people waiting and that it ISN’T horribly insulting because your busyness is so much more important than their feelings or time. And the ‘everyone else is doing it’ doesn’t help.

Re: “nobody is on time for restaurant reservations any more” – they would be if the restaurant didn’t hold the reservation, I bet!

Coming late to this (badoomTISH), but it made me giggle. I’m congenitally unpunctual by English standards and, my first time out in Dublin with (all-Irish) girlfriends, was panicking a bit at being 15 minutes behind the scheduled time. I arrived at the restaurant door just as three of the others did. ‘Isn’t this great?’ said one of them, ‘We’re all on time!’. I relaxed about life in Ireland at that point…

I must admit I do find it reassuring occasionally when racing somewhere, being a few minutes late, only to discover that no one’s actually noticed… it can be quite nice. Of course, that only works when you’re not arriving on time, tapping your foot impatiently and wondering where people are!

As a teenager I read one of Maeve Binchy’s non-fiction, collection of columns books whose title has since escaped me, but it was on etiquette and good old fashioned manners. The essay on lateness really stuck with me. Coming from a family where my mother was NOTORIOUSLY late and I stood haplessly at schoolgates for hours waiting collection (pre-mobile) – I swore off lateness from there on in. Maeve Binchy’s incisive commentary on lateness really made me irate for all those times I waited (im)patiently for my mother, a friend, or whatever, who had chosen to come late. She said, quite clearly – there is no excuse for lateness. Your lateness shows me that you have bigger priorities than our meeting, and a lack of respect for me to leave me waiting.
While Im not as angry and late-phobic as that, If I ever am late I am mortified. And if someone else is late, anything over 20 minutes is a pain. I cannot stand being left languishing in a pub staring into my quarter bottle of vino and as another poster said – trying to look aloof.

Oh I must try to get my hands on that – much of my adolescence was shaped by good ol’ Maeve too.🙂 Actually, I may have read that at some point and forgotten because I do think I’ve given that lecture to people more than once, depending on levels of grouchiness.

I hate lateness. It always frustrates me no end – as everyone has said, why is one person’s time more valuable than another’s? If I can make it on time, why can’t you?! I sound very huffy, and obviously if your bus or Luas is running late then that’s grand, but it’s when people take the complete mick out of it, or show up to something that they know you’re going to be on your own waiting, and yet they still can’t get their ass in gear – well that’s just plain rude.

Actually, while I was typing this, and you said late dockets Claire, I just realised I think I went to the same school as you!